


Genosha, Genovia, same difference

by PassedThroughFire



Category: The Princess Diaries - All Media Types, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 2000s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Canon Disabled Character, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Charles is Clarisse, Erik is Joe, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Princess Diaries, Multi, My girl rogue needs more love so she's getting it, No Beach Divorce (X-Men), No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Princess Diaries AU, no makeover scene cause mia and rogue are pretty just the way they are, no romantic subplot, rogue has her southern accent, rogue is mia, rogue with the streak, save that for the sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassedThroughFire/pseuds/PassedThroughFire
Summary: Anna Marie ‘Rogue’ Grey could deal with a lot. Like, a lot a lot. She could deal with living in a refurbished fire hall south of market street in San Francisco, she could deal with sirens at night, she could deal with that salty smell everything had, hell, she could even deal with the death of her estranged father that had occurred two months ago(Was estranged the right word? He still sent her birthday presents), but something she absolutely could not deal with was public speaking class.ORKing Charles of Genosha visits his granddaughter with some important news.Cherik Princess diaries au where Charles is Clarisse, Erik is Joe, and Rogue is Mia
Relationships: Armando Muñoz/Alex Summers, David Haller & Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Rogue (X-Men), Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Gabrielle Haller/Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy & Charles Xavier, Jean Grey & Rogue, Jean Grey/David Haller, Jean Grey/Scott Summers, Kitty Pryde & Rogue, Rogue & Charles Xavier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. School is revolting

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post  
> https://wanderingwhimsy.tumblr.com/post/95875490214/its-all-fun-and-games-until-you-forget-the-name
> 
> I'm gonna try to finish this but honestly once I put out the first chapter we'll see how it goes.

Anne Marie ‘Rogue’ Grey could deal with a lot. Like, a lot a lot. She could deal with living in a refurbished fire hall south of market street in San Francisco, she could deal with sirens at night, she could deal with that salty smell everything had, hell, she could even deal with the death of her estranged father that had occurred two months ago(Was estranged the right word? He still sent her birthday presents), but something she absolutely could not deal with was public speaking class. 

“Morning sweetie, feeling confident?” Her mother, Jean, called from her spot on the ladder where it looks like she was… yeah fuck it, Rogue had no idea what she was doing. Some Art thing, probably.

“Not really, no,” she replied, pulling her backpack on, reluctantly.

“Well then just try to find a spot on the wall, remember? Like we talked about?” Jean climbed down to a reasonable height to look up at her daughter.

“Yeah yeah, don’t look at the people, and if you do-”

“Pretend they’re-”

“They’re naked, yeah. Mom, I gotta tell ya, I don’t think that trick works, it just makes me more uncomfortable,” Rogue lamented, walking down the stairs. 

“Okay well then just look at the wall,” Jean sighed in defeat, handing Rogue a bagged lunch. “Have a good day, Love you.”

“Love you too mom.”

And with that, Rogue set off for school. Ugh. School. Private school, even worse. Full of preppy cheerleaders, nerds, okay, yeah, no, scratch that, everyone there, regardless of what after school activities they participated in, was decidedly disgusting. And most were rich. 

Of course school wasn’t the most dramatic thing in her otherwise invisible life, though Rogue decided she wouldn’t dwell on that as she pushed her scooter up one of the many hills she had to get up to get to school.

School could be dwelled upon. School was constant, predictable. Predictably revolting. The only person at school that Rogue tolerated was-

“Rogue! Wait up!”

“I’m waiting Kitty, I’m waiting,” she laughed as her best friend rolled up beside her, literally, rolled up on almost the exact same scooter. “So, what’s the plan today? Megaphone or posters?”

“Posters, for like a month, my parents took the megaphone cause my sister used it in the house,” Kitty grumbled.

Rogue laughed loudly as they rolled down the hill, finally reaching school. “Serves you right for usin’ it to wake me up at God knows when.”

“Hey! That was for a very important movie release and you did not seem all that torn up about it when we were sitting in the theatres, watching Bianca punch that stupid guy,” Kitty protested. “You were the one who wanted to go see it in the first place!”

“Yeah, at like a matinee, or an afternoon show, not the first one showing as soon as the theatre opened,” Rogue retorted, slowing to a stop. 

Kitty groaned. “You are no fun.”

“Excuse you, I’m plenty fun, biscuit.” Rogue grinned and locked their scooters in the bike rack. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late for class.”

* * *

School was gross, as was to be expected. She’d thrown up in the debate class, totally flubbing her speech, so she’d seen no other choice but to run out of the room, down the hall to the bathroom, and not emerge until class was over. 

Rogue wasn’t exactly a social pariah, but she wasn’t well liked. Plus, Kitty was well-known and not well-liked, so to be seen constantly associating with her made her socially guilty by collaboration or something like that, who knew what people actually paid attention to. She was more worried about her grade in Mr. Summers’ class than the tiny little reputation she now had from it.

Thankfully, Rogue had work to look forward to… Wow she hated that that was a sentence that crossed her mind. Work was supposed to be the part you don’t look forward to, right? 

Regardless, work was nice. She worked at the gym, in the rock climbing section, making sure ropes weren’t twisted, making sure nobody fell, and if they did fall, reminding them of the waiver they signed so they wouldn’t sue.

She walked over to the desk, writing in the tallies of what tips they got today, when she saw bright ginger hair out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey mom.” She nodded, acknowledging her mom. Jean came up next to her, leaning on the counter.

“You threw up huh?” Rogue didn’t dignify that question with a response. “And you ran away.”

“Look, mom, I’m tryna forget about it, could we not talk about it?” Rogue sighed, tying back her hair. This conversation would be better to have on the wall, where she had a legitimate reason for not making eye contact with her mom.

“Fine, fine.”

“Thank you mom.” Rogue nodded and leaned over the counter. “Could I have some shoes and chalk please?”

“I’ll go settle it with your debate teacher. What’s his name?”

“Mr. Summers, he’s the blind guy, hence debate, all talking,” Rogue explained, picking up the shoes and chalk. “Mom, I’m never gonna be a good public speaker, tell him I just wanna be a mime. I’ll write out my debates in braille if I gotta,” she sighed, pulling the shoes on. Jean chuckled, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

“Sure, I’ll let him know, though I don’t think it’ll come to that.” Jean chalked up her palms. “One more thing before we get up there, your grandfather called.”

Rogue blinked, and stood up, looking utterly confused. Jean blinked back, the two of them standing in silence for a bit before-

“Ohh, the live one, on your father’s side. Charles, lives in Genosha,” Jean cackled her response.

Rogue chuckled. “Yeah I’d be damn surprised if pop pop was suddenly back from the dead.” She started walking to the wall, already knowing mom would follow her. “Wack, this is the first time he’s even contacted us, why’d he call?”

“He’s in town, and he wants to have tea,” Jean supplied. Rogue raised an eyebrow.

“Tea? He came all the way from Europe to have tea?” Jean nodded, letting the attendant hook her in. Rogue let the other do the same. “Isn’t this the grandpa that made you and dad get a divorce?” Jean sighed, starting to climb.

“No, honey, nobody made us get a divorce. Charles and I liked each other well enough but, when your father and I grew apart, Charles… didn’t really take it well, and thought it better that we didn’t see each other for a long while, or ever, really. But David and I divorced on our own.”

“So then why should I go see some snobby old man that ignores us?” Rogue followed Jean up, keeping her eyes on the wall, passing her mom, until she reached the top. “Tension please!” She relaxed some as she sat in the air, foot resting against the wall

“Annie, he’s your grandfather, please, just go see him tomorrow. I know how badly your father wanted you two to meet one day.” Jean looked up at Rogue, wearing that face that Rogue hated. It was that sad mom look, the one that could get her to do anything.

“Ughhh, fiiiiiiiiine.” Rogue sighed, repelling down.

“Great! I’ll get the address from him and I’ll write it out for you before you go to school tomorrow.” Jean grinned, following her daughter.

“Or I could just, not, go to school, and, and…. And…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, you’re going to school, sorry sweetie.”

“No you’re not.” Rogue rolled her eyes.

“Yeah you’re right, I’m not,” Jean cackled again.


	2. Draconic Bloodline

Rogue sat on the couch in the large hall. Damn this place was freakin fancy. 

She’d had to buzz in, as soon as she’d even walked on the grass to get into this place she’d been yelled at in like four languages, and when she came in she had been greeted by a freakin butler. She had asked him to not crush the biscuits she and her mom had made when they searched her, as in, patted her bag for concealed guns, searched her, and now she was pretty sure those biscuits were crumbs.

It looked more like a museum, with the ropes and fancy furniture, and art pieces. Weird thing though, there were pears  _ everywhere _ , in the carpet, in the art, even some foam ones in the bouquet of flowers on the table. 

This had better be some damn good tea or else Rogue had bailed on Kitty for nothing.

“Anne Marie?” 

She looked up at the sound of her name. Showtime. Time to meet rich guy, have tea, make small talk, then go back to life having fulfilled her dead father’s request 

“Yeah?” 

Instead of seeing an old man, she was now looking at a tall and lanky dude holding a clipboard, dressed in a white collared shirt, a blue sweater vest, khakis, loafers, and glasses. That was one Grade A, straight out of an 80s teen pic, bonafide Nerd if she ever saw one, but he was also like, 35, so she decided his age made up for his general nerd-dome. She also decided this was probably not her grandfather.

“I’m Hank McCoy, your grandfather’s assistant, and I occasionally work with the Genoshan Attach corps. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand.

She shook it, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, just call me Rogue, by the way, my mom’s the only one who calls me ‘Anne Marie,’ and that’s just when I’m in trouble.”

Hank smiled, pulling his hand back politely. “Rogue then, alright. Any particular reason for the nickname?”

Rogue shrugged. “My mom played dnd in high school and college and uh, apparently I stole her craft stuff a lot as a kid, so it just kinda stuck.”

Hank chuckled. “I see. I used to play wizards mostly.”

Rogue nodded. “I see that. I’m more of a sorcerer myself.”

“Considering the whole draconic bloodline thing, that weirdly makes sense,” Hank muttered.

Rogue raised an eyebrow.

“Whaddaya mean?”

Hank looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Uhh-”

Rogue narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but her theories would have to wait, she had homework to do later and she wanted to get tea time over with as quickly as possible, so she offered a way out. 

“Is it the streak? My mom said my dad went grey real quick, kinda ironic since  _ her _ last name is Grey.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, it looks nice though.” Hank smiled, looking utterly relieved to have been excused from an answer, now looking at the white streak in Rogue’s hair. She fiddled with it almost proudly. She’d gotten it done after she heard about her dad. The funeral wasn’t in San Francisco, and they hadn’t been invited to it, probably cause of this snobby grandfather she was about to meet. Regardless, she’d wanted to honor him in some way so she’d asked Kitty to dye the white streak in her hair. It had turned out surprisingly well for a 3 AM bathroom job.

“Thanks… Hey by the way, where am I? This place is, like, ultra-fancy.”

“This is the Genoshan Consulate,” Hank explained, already falling back into his comfortable professionalism.

“Do they just really like pears in Genosha?” Rogue looked at the fake fruit once more. Hank chuckled.

“No, but it is our largest export. We’re famous for them. If you’ll sit down, he’ll be with you in a moment.”

“No need for a moment, Hank, I’m already here.” 

Rogue looked in the direction the voice had come from, and instead of the shrivelled up lemon of a man she may or may not have been expecting, she found herself gazing down at a man in a wheelchair, with salt and pepper brown hair, smile lines, and the same blue eyes she’d seen in her father. He wore an all black suit, save for a navy tie, probably still mourning her dad in that weird way rich people did, with their clothing. Still though, he didn’t give off the snobby vibe she’d thought he would. “You’d think after years of this place existing, they’d put in a ramp somewhere.” He looked up at Hank with an easy smile before turning to Rogue. “Anne Marie, I’m so glad you could come.” He wheeled himself towards her.

Rogue waved awkwardly. 

“Hi, uh, nice place you got here.”

“Thank you, my dear.” He smiled just as easily with her as he did with Hank, looking up at her, though… there was this other weird thing in his eyes she couldn’t put her finger on. “I really do see it in person now.”

Rogue cocked her head to the side. “See what?”

“Just, how much you resemble your father,” he replied with a smile. Rogue blinked, and couldn’t fight back a smile of her own. Her mom had told her that she looked like her dad, but she always thought that was just cause Rogue didn’t inherit the blue-eyed ginger genes, and she had to look like someone, but hearing it from her grandfather, it just hit differently. 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” 

“Please, sit, you’re a lovely girl but I’d rather not crane my neck to talk to you,” he chuckled. Rogue nodded and sat back down on the couch, now realizing why there was a weird space across the table as Charles slid into it. “Hank, would you go and check on the tea?”

“Right away sir.”

They sat there for a few seconds, and Rogue clacked her teeth awkwardly. 

“So, uh, my mom said you wanted to do tea?”

“Yes, but if it’s alright with you, I’d prefer we have it in the garden, it’s been some time since I’ve been in the city and I’d like to take it in,” Charles replied.

“Sure, cool. I haven’t really done this kinda thing before… Look I gotta be honest here, did you wanna talk to me about something?” Rogue sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Charles seemed to deflate, but only for a moment.

“Yes, I did, but I’d rather we do that part over tea. In the meantime, I have a gift for you.”

Rogue barely bit back a remark about buying her off. She promised mom she’d make nice.

Charles picked up an ornate silver box from the table next to him and handed it to her. Okay… Shiny stuff, he knew his audience of a teenage girl.

“Whoa, uh... Thank you. I have a few wooden boxes at home but they’re just a bunch of mom’s art projects so-”

“Actually the present is inside,” Charles interrupted, gesturing at the box. 

“Oh.” Rogue chuckled and opened it. Inside was a gorgeous silver locket with a pretty crest on it.

“That would be the Genovian crest, it belonged to your grandmother when she was young,” Charles elaborated, sitting forward now with that same smile. Rogue was so shocked she dropped the box. The smile went with it but returned quickly with a more worried air. “And while it wasn’t the present, that  _ was _ my great grandmother’s.”

“I am so sorry, I promise, I’m gonna take real good care of these.” Rogue picked up the box, and once she was sure the box was fine, she put it into her backpack. “Uh, my mom and I made biscuits but I think they’re just crumbs now.” She put the necklace on, tucking it under her shirt for safekeeping.

“Not to worry dear, we have plenty of biscuits,” Charles assured her. “Now, a slight warning, what we need to talk about today will have a big impact on your life.”

Yikes, okay uh, joke, joke, make a joke.

“I already had braces.”

… Comedic genius, really. Nice going dumbass.

Well, at least Charles seemed to think so, with his laugh, which, even that was proper. Nothing like the snort Rogue and her mother shared.

“No, I’m afraid it’s bigger than orthodontia, though, hopefully, less painful.”

“Tea is served, sir.” 

Hank’s voice startled them both. Charles nodded, lifting up the brake on his chair. 

“Excellent, thank you, Hank.”

* * *

Rogue stirred the sugar into her tea, enjoying the ‘clink clink clink’ of the spoon against the porcelain. It was funny, Charles had said he wanted to take in the city outside but hedges and trees surrounded the backyard so it really didn’t feel like that was the case.

“Erm, Anne Marie,-”

“You can just call me Rogue, please,” she interrupted, scooping some more sugar into the cup. Charles nodded with a sigh.

“Right, have you ever heard of Brian Nicholas David Xavier Haller?”

“Uhh, no, definitely no, that’s a lotta names,” Rogue replied, licking the leftover tea off the spoon. 

Charles bit his lip. “He... He was the crown prince of Genosha.”

“Oh that’s cool, didn’t know you guys had a prince. What about him?”

God, small talk was one thing, but politics, did Charles really wanna fly all the way to San Francisco to talk politics?

Charles sat up a bit straighter. “Brian Nicholas David Xavier Haller was… was your father.”

…

Rogue snorted.

“Okay, sure, nice gag. My dad was the prince of Genosha, right, you’re joking,” Rogue cackled.

Charles’ expression didn’t change from its serious position.

“Why would I joke about something like that?”

Rogue sat up, catching her breath with a grin, still not really believing it. It had to be a joke, maybe he was trying to be all jokey, like other grandpas. Not like she’d play along though.

“Nah, no, c’mon, you gotta be kidding, cause, if dad was the prince, that would… that’d make me-”

“Precisely.” Charles smiled again, and oh boy now Rogue was getting concerned. “You’re not just Anne Marie Grey. You are Anne Marie Michelle Grey Xavier Haller, princess of Genosha.”

… Well shit.


	3. Shut up!

“A princess? I-I’m a princess, _ shut up _ !” Rogue held her head in her hands. Nobody else but her mom knew her full name, he wasn't kidding.

“I beg your pardon?” Charles’ jaw dropped. “Shut up?”

“Your Majesty, remember, in America, it’s more akin to an exclamation of surprise than asking to be quiet,” a tall man in shades remarked.

“Oh, thank you, Erik.”

Holyshitholyshithoyshitholyshit.

“Nevertheless, you are the princess. And I am King Charles Xavier.”

Rogue looked up at Charles. “Why the hell would you pick me to be your princess?!”

Charle sighed, fiddling with his teacup. 

“Since, since your father passed away two months ago, you are the natural heir to the throne of Genosha, it’s simply the law,” he explained calmly. “I’m royal by marriage, whereas you are royal by blood, you can rule Genosha, my dear. I’m simply a placeholder.”

Rogue’s jaw dropped. 

“Oh god rule? Rule??! No no no no no, now you’ve really got it wrong, I’ve never led anyone anywhere, my best friend plans everything, my mom books my appointments.” She leaned across the table, desperate to find some way out of this. “King Charles, my expectation in life is to be invisible, some rando kid who ends up working a nine to five and probably living in the same firehouse or an apartment a block down from the firehouse.”

“Anne Marie, I had my own expectations of life, believe me,” Charles said with a sympathetic tone, taking her hands in his. “I never expected any of this to happen in my most insane thoughts, pardon my saying so, but you are in fact the legal heir, besides that, the  _ only _ heir to the Genoshan throne. I am happy to train you to become our next princess, as I trained your father. Though of course your route of study will be a little different, more art, etiquette, and language-based than the science books we perused. And over time I think you may find Genosha to be quite a lovely place to live-”

“Whoa what, slow down, back the fuck up, live in Genosha?!” Rogue stood, taking her hands out of Charles’ and slamming them on the table, so they wouldn’t shake. Charles frowned but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She didn’t think she could find it in herself to breathe.

“Language! A princess musn’t curse-”

Her toes felt numb and he was worried about her cursing, yeah, no, sorry old man, time for a reality check from yours truly.

“No, no shut up, like actually be quiet this time! I don’t wanna be a princess, I don’t wanna move to Europe, and I don’t wanna rule, goodbye grandpa, see you never!”

She ran out of the yard, back through the house, and out onto the front lawn, realizing she needed to have a very long, painful talk with her mother.

* * *

“Anne Marie! Anne Marie, come back here!” Charles called fruitlessly after his granddaughter, starting to wheel up to catch her when he reached the stairs. “Oh Bugger all!” He sighed, looking up at Erik. “Well, that went well.”

“Relax, your majesty, perhaps she just needs more time to adjust, you did throw all of that on her at once, and you weren’t really asking, more than telling,” he replied with a knowing smile. 

Charles sighed, rubbing his face. “I know, I know, you’re right. Will you help me? With her, I mean.”

“Of course.”

“Then please, go after her, talk to her mother, take her to school, look after her, whatever it is she needs while she thinks on this.”

“I’m your head of security and you want me to play chauffeur and babysitter?” Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles.

“For the time being, yes, the child needs protection!”

“From what it sounds like, she was doing fine with Ms. Grey until you dropped that bomb on her, my king,” Erik retorted, walking back to the table, taking Anne Marie’s empty spot.

“Yes but now there’s the possibility of the press, you know how invasive those little vultures can be. Oh, I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.” He sat up, massaging his temples. “Hank, could you find that chessboard?”

“I’ll go get it,” Hank nodded, heading inside. Charles wheeled back up to where he was sitting. 

“I know very little about this city, I was up in New York during, well, everything, and you know it very well if your stories are anything to go by.”

“Oh yes, I got those lovely red pumps downtown here,” Erik said with his shark grin. Charles smiled, the tension bleeding out of him.

“Precisely. That and you’ll be able to get around easier than I would.” 

Erik smiled as Hank brought out the chessboard. He dismissed all the attendants and Hank, assuring the local ones that he could handle any threat to the king.

“Alright, I will do this, however, my king, I must suggest you go and talk to her, and Jean. At the very least, you owe them that.”

Charles sighed once more, moving his piece.

“I suppose you’re right. I always liked that Jean.”

“I know you did, I was there. So, I’ll drive you up there tomorrow morning, I’ll take her to school, get to know her, report back to you when the day is done,” Erik suggested.

“I think that’s quite wise, thank you, Erik.”

“Anything for you, sir.”

* * *

Rogue stormed into the fire hall, slamming the door behind her and hanging up her backpack. Jean didn’t even look up from her painting. 

“Hey honey, how was tea with-”

“PRINCESS?!!”

That got her attention. Jean frowned and put down her palette. “So he told you.”

“You knew??! You knew this entire time and you didn’t tell me?!” Rogue marched up to her, barely keeping herself from screaming. “In my 15 years of existence, you didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, it could possibly be important to go, ‘Oh, by the way, sweetie, your dad, y’know how you never see him, that’s cause he’s gonna be ruling a country one day, y’know as its king, so you’re a princess, surprise!!’ You never thought to tell me that?!” She threw her jacket onto the floor.

Jean rubbed her eyes. “Honey, I thought I was doing the right thing-”

“For who?! For you?? So you wouldn’t have to deal with politics and wait for your daughter to have to deal with them?” Rogue stormed over to the fridge to get a drink. 

“No, no, it was never about me, sweetie,” Jean assured her. “It was the best thing for all of us. When your father and I met, we were in college, we fell hard and fast. When I found out he was a royal, things became complicated. We grew apart after I found out.” She came over to the counter, grabbing a beer for herself. Cause, God, she was gonna need it. “If we got divorced, he could go and marry someone else, and produce heirs, and I would be free to live my life with you. I was young, I wanted to stay here and paint, and I didn’t want to subject you to such a monitored life, we wanted you to have a normal childhood.”

“So, living with my mother, who lied to me for fifteen years, that’s normal?” Rogue countered, opening a can of Mountain Dew cause fuck it, she wasn’t gonna be going to sleep any time soon. Jean sighed, taking a swig of her beer.

“No, no it’s not.” She put down the bottle, finally facing Rogue. “Annie, as soon as you were born, your dad and your grandparents agreed to keep their distance so you could have the normal life I had, to protect you from the press and other royals and crazy emotional complications. That was what we decided on, and we’d already divorced at that point anyway. We had planned on telling you when you were eighteen, but when your dad died, that changed.” Jean pushed herself up onto the counter. Rogue decidedly did not look at her, she definitely didn’t see the sad resignation in her mom’s face, no siree bob. 

“Y’know what, mom, I’m going to my  _ royal bed-chamber, _ let's just forget about it, and we can leave this whole thing behind us cause I told his royal highness that I don’t ever wanna see him again, I literally said ‘see you never,’ and I intend to keep that word, so, good night.” She grabbed an orange and stomped up to her room.

Jean sighed. “Night sweetheart.”

Rogue locked her bedroom door, looking at her cat. “Louie, you are so damn lucky you don’t know who your parents are.”


	4. A compromise

Jean sat in silence with Charles at the breakfast table. She pursed her lips and tapped her foot awkwardly. 

Charles looked around at the firehouse-turned-studio. “You’ve really improved.”

“Huh?” Jean followed his gaze to one of her more traditional paintings. “Oh! Uh, thanks, Charles, that’s nice of you. David always made a joke about how I’d be the next Afremov, cause of-”

“The way you use light, yes, I can see he was right,” he agreed with a smile and turned his eyes back to her. “It is lovely to see you again, I’m sorry we left on bad terms.”

Jean sighed, fidgeting with her hair. “I’d like to say the same, really, but you kinda bombarded Rogue, so you’re not really in my good graces right now.”

Charles nodded, at least having the decency look guilty.” I know, and I’m sorry, but unfortunately-”

“Save the spiel for her, okay. Until she gets down here, I have some stuff to show you.” Jean stood, effectively changing subjects as she went over to the bookshelf, which was really just another place to store the art supplies, but there were a few books there, including a photo album. “I don’t know if he ever got a copy, but I have this really nice picture of David and Rogue.” She handed Charles the old polaroid. It showed David holding a baby, Rogue, looking down at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. 

Charles knew that look very well. He’d looked at David the same way. He handed it back to Jean before he could start crying.

“That’s a wonderful picture, I can see why you kept it.” He sat up a bit straighter. “But truly, Jean, you need to know the full weight of the situation. If Anne Marie-”

“Rogue, you wanna get on her good side, call her Rogue,” Jean advised, putting the picture back. 

“Right, yes. If Rogue doesn’t accept the throne, then Genosha will cease to exist as we know it.”

“... Sorry, let me get this straight, the future of your country is in the hands of my fifteen-year-old?” Jean resisted the urge to get a drink.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Charles sighed. “You see, David was ready to become king, he’d been preparing for it since he was a boy, and he was more than ready to take the role once Gabrielle passed… But then, after the accident… “ He bit his lip. Jean sighed. She knew how close David and his father had been, and when Rogue had been born, just the thought of losing her had caused nights of sobbing. She couldn’t imagine how awful he was feeling.

“Charles, I… I want you to know that, even though it didn’t work out between us, I loved your son very much, and I know how much he loved you, and Rogue,” Jean said, resting her hand on Charles’.

“Thank you,” Charles murmured. Jean got the feeling he didn’t really get to show his grief that much. “That means a lot.”

Of course, it was at that point that Rogue came sliding down the fire pole. She took one look between her mother and her grandfather and just groaned.

“Ughh, nope, no. Nuh-uh. I’m going back to bed” She walked towards the fridge to grab a quick breakfast.

“Rogue, please, the three of us have to talk,” Jean pleaded with her daughter.

“Oh, is there something else about my life that you two know about that I don’t? Do I have a secret twin sister that’s a duchess?” Rogue didn’t bother looking at them as she grabbed an apple.

“Well no, but you do have a cousin that’s a contessa. His name’s Kurt,” Charles replied with a shrug. 

“Look, it’s clear from both of you that yesterday’s meeting didn’t go very well,” Jean said abruptly, cutting them both off. “Rogue, honey, please sit down and just listen to what he has to say, now that you’ve had some more time to process.”

Rogue raised a skeptical eyebrow, looking between the two of them, but reluctantly sat down, munching on her apple. “Proceed,” she drawled, mouth full.

Charles smiled, turning his focus, and his chair, towards her. “Rogue, in a matter of weeks, we have an annual ball, and I was, and still am hoping that we could treat it as your introduction into the world of royalty and nobility, and more to the point, to the press and the public. However, you don’t yet have the training of a royal.”

“I’m going to private school, doesn’t that count?” Rogue took another bite of her apple. “Ohh, so that’s where Dad got the money. I thought he was just a lawyer or something,” she muttered. Charles smiled, sitting back with a fond look in his eyes.

“He considered it, briefly, but that was before Logan abdicated, I’m sorry, we’re getting off track.” Charles became serious once more. “Rogue, I speak for the entire royal family and the Genoshan Parliament-”

Jean interrupted him, holding up a hand. “And I speak for this family and this studio, Charles-”

“And I speak for myself, thank you very much.” Rogue stood, throwing her apple core in the trash. ”So I speak into existence that neither one of you can talk for me, since neither of you are my family. Cause, one of you ignored me for fifteen years, and the other lied to me for fifteen years, and I dunno ‘bout you two, but I don’t really think family does that.” She clenched her fists and walked back up the stairs, taking her backpack with her.

“Rogue!” Charles lifted the break up on his chair, ready to follow, but stopped at the fire pole, looking up. “I don’t suppose you have a lift.”

“Charles I swear I am this close to kicking you out of my house until dinner time,” Jean groaned, following her daughter up the stairs.

“Where is she going, I thought that was her room,” he pointed up at the hole.

“She’s going to the tower,” Jean called back down. “Rogue, you can’t run from everything!”

Charles hesitated. “... She has a tower?” he muttered to himself.

“Annie please just come down from there,” Jean tried not to beg.

“Y’know, most kids hope for a car or a bike or something normal for their 16th birthday, and what’d I get? A country! That I don’t want!” Charles wheeled forward to find her, and looked up, seeing Rogue peeking out of an opening in the ceiling that clearly led to another room. So that’d be the tower.

“Rogue, this is getting us nowhere, please, just talk to me.”

“I can’t talk right now, mom, I’m late for a meeting with my guidance counselor.” Rogue glared at her mother. 

“I’m late for a meeting with Spain and Portugal,” Charles fired back from the ground floor. 

Jean rolled his eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose, when suddenly her head shot up, a big smile on her face, though definitely tinged with exasperation. “Look, here, a compromise, alright? Rogue will agree to attend princess lessons until this big ball of yours-”

“It’s not  _ my _ ball, it’s Genosha’s-”

“Whatever, okay, the ball. She will neither accept nor reject the offer of, I dunno, princessdom, until that ball, can you both live with that?” Jean looked between her ex-father in law and her daughter.

Charles sighed, resting back against the chair. “I suppose since there seems to be no other option, yes, that is agreeable.”

Rogue pushed back the panel, grumbling, “If I have to.”

“But I must insist that there is not to be a single word of this to anyone before that night, I would like this to remain secret, good lord the press would have a field day if they knew.” Charles massaged his temples.

“Grandpa, I’m not an idiot, ‘kay, I won’t go spillin’ your big shameful secret.”

Jean sighed, tying her hair back. “Great, awesome, let’s not keep Spain and Portugal waiting. Now, Rogue, honey, I gotta go deal with this teacher of yours, so your grandpa’s driving you to school. Don’t forget to lock the door, love you!” With that, she brushed by the wheelchair and out the door.

Jean was out the door before Rogue could protest. She simply turned her glare back at Charles and stuck out her tongue.

He rolled his eyes and went to wait by the door.

* * *

“I must say, I love the city, but its hills are terribly unaccommodating, going up is a real workout, and going down is praying I don’t lose control and crash,” Charles remarked as the pair of them headed out to the street. 

“Well, welcome to San Francisco.” Rogue shrugged, feigning indifference, but she and Kitty had had that exact conversation before, or rather Kitty had ranted and she’d agreed. “Oh hey by the way, my mom traded like three paintings, to get me a 1966 Mustang, but it’s in the shop right now, cause, y’know, 66 Mustang, so you don’t always need to drive me,” she explained excitedly. Her car was her baby, and any chance she got to talk about it, she took.

“Oh I remember that car, your second cousin, Logan, he had one before he traded it in for a motorcycle. I think you’d like him, he’s very down to earth,” Charles replied, smiling back. “You said it’s in the shop, what happened to it?” Rogue sighed, tugging on her bangs. 

“San Francisco hills.”

He chuckled. “I see, well if you’d like, I could help pay for the repairs.”

“Really?” Rogue almost tripped over her own feet at the offer.

“Of course, you’re still my granddaughter, I need to spoil you somehow.” Charles shrugged with that same fond smile.

“Whoa. Thanks, grandpa. Holy shit are those limos?” Rogue’s eyes widened at the sight of her grandfather’s choice of transportation.

“Language, please, but yes.” Charles just barely hid a chuckle.

“Why do you have two?”

“Oh, one is yours,” Charles replied like she’d asked him about the weather. No big deal, she just casually had a limo till her baby was fixed. She shook herself out of her stupor as Charles stopped in front of the first limo. “Rogue, this is Erik Lehnsherr, he’s my head of security.”

Rogue stared up at a rather imposing man. The guy was built like a bouncer and twice as intimidating. “Pleasure to meet you, your highness.”

“Hi, nice to meet you too,” Rogue replied, closing her mouth. “Uh, would it be okay if we picked up my friend to get to school? I usually walk with her but uh… Yeah.”

“Of course, your highness, just let me know where to pick her up.” Erik opened the door for her.

“Thanks, Mr. Lehnsherr.”

“Please, call me Erik.”

“Okay, Erik.” Rogue nodded. Charles sat up straighter. 

“Well then, I’m off for the day, I’ll see you after school.” He carefully wheeled himself towards the other limo. Holy shit, Rogue wasn’t ready to get used to the word limo joining her daily vocabulary, but here she was. Oh god, what was Kitty gonna do when she saw all this? 

Rogue shook herself out of her thoughts and stepped into the limo, putting her bag to the side. She looked at Erik as he started driving.

“Uh, I’m saying sorry in advance for Kitty and uh… her general Kitty-ness.”

“Your highness, I’ve escorted a great many eccentric individuals a great many places a great many times, I appreciate the warning, but I am quite sure I can handle this ‘Kitty.’” Erik kept his sunglasses on as they drove, but she could swear he was raising an eyebrow. She could definitely see his smirk though.

“Yeah you say that now, but we’ll see,” Rogue chuckled, looking back out the window. “Hey, Erik?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Could we take the flags off?”

“No, the flags allow me to park anywhere, including handicapped spaces,” he replied with a shake of his head. Rogue frowned.

“They don’t actually let you do that, do they?”

“No, but this does,” Erik chuckled, holding up a handicapped parking pass. “Even the king needs a parking pass.”

Rogue giggled. “I like you, Erik. You’re cool.”

“Thank you for saying so, your highness, I like you as well.”


	5. Stockings and Posture

Kitty just stood there, staring, with her mouth hanging open.

“Did, did I miss something?” She looked between Rogue and the limo. “Are we going to a wedding? Or a funeral? Please tell me it’s not a funeral, I would’ve worn something else-”

“No, just school” Rogue snorted. “This is the surprise ride.” She turned towards Erik. “Uh, Erik, this is Kitty, Kitty, Erik.”

Now Kitty looked even more in awe. “Holy shit you’re Erik Lehnsherr.”

Erik chuckled, a little confused at Kitty’s response. “Yes.”

Rogue mirrored his confusion. “How do you know Erik?”

“Dude! I did my freakin biography project on him, on you! The path went cold after the seventies,” Kitty explained excitedly. “You’re like, one of the big contributors to the queer community here, holy shit dude!” Rogue looked back at Erik.

“Wait is that true?”

Erik nodded, now understanding. “Ah, I see, well, thank you, and yes it is. I’m flattered that your friend found me interesting enough for a school project. Speaking of which, let’s not be late.” He held open the door for them.

Rogue got in, pulling Kitty in after her, trying to process this new information. Kitty frowned, leaning on the front seat to talk to Erik.

“So, you went from this super big queer activist to being a limo driver, how’d that happen?”

“That’s a long story that we don’t have time for. Seat belts please, ladies,” Erik replied curtly.

“But you’ll tell me later, right?” Kitty reluctantly sat back, putting her seat belt on.

“No.”

Rogue cackled at her best friend’s sheer audacity and how fast Erik had shut her down.

“Ughh, fine.” Kitty pouted, crossing her arms.

“Still think you can handle her?” Rogue looked at Erik in the mirror.

“Yes.”

“Fair enough, I guess you kinda did.” She shrugged, turning to Kitty as they pulled back onto the main road. “Kit Kat, let’s just enjoy not having to walk up and down the hills to get to school. You can harass Erik later.”

“Fine, I’ll just pester you instead. Is your mom dating an undertaker now?” Kitty smirked and turned to face her.

“No, actually, my dad’s dad, kinda long-lost grandpa I guess, showed up with it, he wants me to use it.” Rogue shrugged.

“Shit. I knew your dad was loaded but sheesh. Maybe he was like, old money or something. So why is he lending you the limo and the coolest driver in the world?” Kitty raised an eyebrow.

“I think he’s trying to get me to like him, he gave me a necklace too,” Rogue replied easily. It wasn’t a lie, just, not the whole truth. She trusted Kitty but Charles had said to not tell anyone. 

She avoided her guilt by turning her attention to Erik. “Hey Erik can we park a block away from the school, I’d rather not cause a riot with this hearse.”

“This is a non-riot hearse, and if it were, there would be silence in the back seat,” Erik replied, grinning like a damn shark. 

* * *

School was again, predictably disgusting. The only thing new was she accidentally hit the gym teacher with a ball during class, and she’d gone down to Principal Frost’s office to talk about the new tuition set up, with her grandpa paying it instead of her dad. After school, she’d checked up on the Mustang and set up the same agreement.

Okay, she could admit it, having a royal grandpa had its perks. She just hoped he was rich enough to not bat an eye at $400.00 USD for fixing her baby.

Speaking of Charles, Rogue was already dreading these abhorrent princess lessons. C’mon, she knew words like abhorrent, wasn’t that enough?

Somehow, she doubted it.

Rogue hummed to herself, rolling up to the embassy again, throwing up a peace sign at the security camera, and definitely staying off the grass. She locked her scooter into the bike rack and headed inside. She was quickly greeted by Hank.

“Welcome back to the embassy ma’am.” He gave a little bow. Rogue waved her hand flippantly.

“Aw c’mon, you don’t gotta do that. Hank, right?”

“Yes, and Rogue, was it?” He gave her a smile like they were sharing a private joke, which she supposed they were, considering she’d told him all about her nickname.

“That’s me.”

“Excellent, I’m not facing a mimic,” he chuckled. “Alright, down the hall to your left, his majesty’s been waiting.”

“Cool, let’s get this show on the road.” Rogue followed his directions, peeking into the office once they got there. Once again, incredibly fancy.

“Ah, Rogue, you’re here, excellent. Hank, would you take notes please?” Charles took off a pair of glasses as she entered. 

Rogue looked up at a large portrait of a woman with dark black hair and stormy grey eyes. She looked impossibly regal, and definitely more stuck up than Charles. Still, there was a certain familiarity in the hair, not unlike Rogue’s own. And anyone who could sit there in that poofy red dress for that long deserved her respect.

“Is that Grandma?” She pointed up at the portrait. 

Charles followed her gaze with a smile. 

“Yes, that’s your Grandmother.” He smiled fondly at the portrait. “She was my best friend for many years. It’s a pity you didn’t have a chance to meet her, I think you two would have gotten on famously.” He wheeled out from behind his desk. “Now then, onto our curriculum. Tell me, at school, where do you most successful?”

Rogue shrugged. “I dunno, science, math. You don’t have to do much talking there.”

Charles chuckled. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to get used to public speaking, princesses give a great many speeches. Your mother mentioned a debate class?”

Rogue bit the inside of her cheek. “Yeeeah, nooo, my um, I kinda lack the… everything, needed for debate class.”

“Well then hopefully, by the time the ball comes, you’ll be achieving high marks in that class, lord knows you’ll be getting in the practice time.” He wheeled forward, taking a good look at her. “But I think it’s best we start with something else today, perhaps posture.”

“What’s wrong with my posture?” Rogue looked down at herself, then at her grandpa, offense clearly shown on her face. Charles sighed, maintaining his own stiff upper back.

“Dear, if I slumped over in this chair, I’d be turning my body into the letter G, I will not have you turning your body into a letter. Besides that, good posture indicates good manners, confidence-”

“Snobbery?” Rogue crossed her arms defiantly. Charles raised his eyebrow.

“Do you think me a snob?” He pushed her a little, but she could see the smile behind it.

“You tell me, your majesty,” she fired back, not willing to back down.

Charles narrowed his eyes but resumed his spiel. “Bad posture, such as your own, indicates a lack of care for those around you, your personal health, it can show a lack of attention-”

“It also leaves you open to attacks,” Erik’s voice came from the doorway. “Your Majesty, your Highness.” He gave a quick bow before walking in. 

“Erik, perfect timing, I think you’d be imperative to this lesson.” Charles smiled, finally rolling back and giving Rogue some space.

She reluctantly straightened up and put her shoulders back.

“Whaddaya mean, open to attacks?” Erik gave a shark-like grin again and turned to Hank.

“Hank, come here a moment. Slouch.”

Hank put down his clipboard with a groan. “Oh god not this again, it was bad enough with David.”

“I’m not going to hurt you for real,” Erik replied.

“That’s what you said last time.” Hank reluctantly stood next to Erik and slouched. Rogue raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“If you’re hunched over, someone can easily grab hold of your face because it’s easier to reach.” He flicked Hank’s forehead.

“Ow!”

“Oh hush you, big baby,” Charles teased the younger man.

“Yes, do hush.” Erik grinned, walking around so he was behind Hank. “Someone can easily come at you from behind because, one, you can’t see them in your peripheral, and two, your back is sticking out, an easy target.” He flicked Hank's back. 

Erik then went through a long series of ‘attacks,’ which were really just him flicking Hank in various places, that one was more easily susceptible to with bad posture.

Hank looked sore and thoroughly humiliated, but Rogue couldn’t stop giggling. Even Charles had a big smile on.

Hank sighed. “Your majesty, may I be excused?”

“Yes yes, go on Hank.” Charles waved him off. “You see now?”

“Okay, okay, so maybe the whole good posture thing isn’t just a snob thing.”

“For now, I will take that. Now, before we move on, one thing I’d like to address, from now on during these lessons I ask that you wear stockings, not tights, not socks, and some proper shoes.”

“C’mon grandpa, these are sensible shoes.” Rogue looked down at her doc martens.

“For curb-stomping-punks, yes, for walking up and down hills, yes, for a princess? No,” Charles refused.

“Alright, alright. I’ll bring something else, yeesh,” Rogue conceded. 

“Good, now, when one is moving through a crowd, we are constantly under scrutiny, hence, we do not turn our bodies into curved letters of the alphabet.”

“My body ain’t no C, grandpa!”

“I should hope not, so we keep shoulders relaxed, think tall, walk, or in my case, roll, with grace and poise.”

“I’ll roll you with grace and poise,” Rogue grumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

* * *

Rogue was thoroughly exhausted by the time princess lessons were over. They had ended with a great finale of her trying to sit in a chair properly… and failing with a dignified screech when she fell to the floor. She picked herself up from the ground, brushing herself off.

“I think that should do it for the day.” Charles looked at his watch. 

Rogue looked at the clock. “Sorry to ask grandpa but could I stay a little bit, my mom’s not gonna be home till later cause she’s meeting with Mr. Summers.”

Charles shrugged. “Well, I suppose it’s about time for tea.” Rogue just barely suppressed a groan.

“Aren’t there rules for tea too?”

“Yes, but you’ve earned a break,” he assured her, wheeling himself out of the garden. She followed after him easily, kicking at the floor a little. “You’ve done well today.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now, question, when you say Mr. Summers, would that be a Scott Summers?” Charles looked up again as they reached the table.

“Yeah, why?”

“I know his brother, Alex Summers, lovely boys.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Rogue was glad to fall into more casual conversation with her grandpa, and by the time tea was over, she was pretty sure Jean would be back at the fire hall.

“See you tomorrow, bye Grandpa!” She grabbed her backpack and hurried out to the front to meet Erik.

“Good night Rogue.”

* * *

“How the hell does anyone go into a parent-teacher conference and come out with a date?”

“Annie, Mr. Summers is not married, he’s not living with anyone, and he’s not a total creep, you know how hard it is to find a man like that down here? I have higher chances of winning the Olympics, with my _current_ skill set,” Jean replied, wagging her dry paintbrush at Rogue.

“Mom, that’s my teacher, my debate teacher, people are gonna think I’m getting good grades cause of favoritism if you start dating him,” Rogue pointed out.

“Honey, please, it’s just one date. He’s a real gentleman, and I haven’t met one of those in a long time. If it turns out bad, I promise, we’ll never talk about it again.”

Rogue sighed. “Alright, if it’ll make you happy.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Jean kissed her forehead. “Now c’mon, help me carry this canvas downstairs.”

* * *

Rogue sat in the back of the limo while Erik drove her to her second day of princess lessons. She leaned forward, her arms resting on the seats. 

“Hey Erik, I’m about to change the backseat into a dressing room so I can get all pretty and proper for Grandpa.”

“Don’t forget the shoes.” Erik handed her a box of black pumps. “I’ve missed this town, nowhere else would I get asked if I wanted to wear these out of the store.”

Rogue grinned, unwrapping the stockings. “Was it cause they recognized you from the activism stuff? That they asked, I mean.”

“No, no, anyone who would have recognized me from those days is either in prison, dead, or have moved off to the countryside. No, I’d imagine it’s because of this.” He tapped the little bi flag pin on his lapel, under the Genoshan one. Rogue grinned.

“Aw, nice! I’ve got a demi one at home.”

“You should bring it next time, your grandfather might enjoy having something to talk about with you,” Erik suggested with a smile.

“Is grandpa gay?” Rogue blinked in surprise. “I mean he doesn’t give off straight vibes but-”

“Not my place to tell you, you’d have to ask him yourself,” Erik replied. “In the meantime though, stockings?”

“Right, stockings.” Rogue groaned and put the divider up, pulling on the hideous contraptions.

As they went up and down the hills, Rogue was not proud to admit that she made a lot of squeaks and shouts. 

“I haven’t put on pantyhose in a long time, but it sounds as dangerous as I remember it to be,” Erik remarked.

“You? You’ve worn this shit before?”

“Oh, not since the 70s.”


	6. Dance and David

“Now, time to delve into the wonderful world of politics and niceties.” Charles led Rogue into a large ballroom. 

“Whoa, is this where the party’s gonna be?”

“Our annual independence day ball, yes. Which brings me to my point. Genosha does a large part of our trade with Spain, and as such, we are invited to a lot of dances.”

Rogue looked down at him, and his wheelchair, skeptically. 

“No offense grandpa, but I don’t think you’re gonna be the best dance teacher unless you’re teaching me the macarena.”

“Well then it’s a good thing he’s not the one teaching you,” Hank replied, looking entirely too smug.

“Are you?” Rogue looked at him.

“Oh god no, I have two left feet. Erik’s gonna be teaching you today,” Hank replied with a little giggle. Rogue turned to Erik, who was looking a little, surprised. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh come now Erik, man of your talents, surely you can manage a waltz,” Charles’ smirk mirrored Hank’s, and Rogue was entirely confused.

“Am I missing something here?”

“No princess, um, not at all.” Erik walked up to the middle of the ballroom, holding his hand out for her. Rogue took it but wasn’t really sure what else to do.

“So uh, what happens now?”

“... just follow my lead.” Erik sounded oddly uncertain. He stiffly placed his other hand on her waist and started counting to a nonexistent beat. He moved like a robot. And not in a cool hip hop dance move way, like, stiff as a board.

“Dude I know middle schoolers who can dance better than this, I thought you were supposed to be teaching me here,” Rogue hissed, wincing as he stepped on her foot. “Ow, ow!”

“I’m so sorry!”

It was at this point that Charles and Hank burst out laughing. 

“Oh my god I’m gonna cry,” Hank shrieked, having to lean against the wall so he wouldn’t fall over.

“What is so funny?!” Erik looked between them. Rogue let go of Erik. 

“Yeah what the hell? Am I that bad?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, both of you just, Hank wanted a little payback and Azazel’s running late, so,” Charles explained through his chortles, leaning on his armrests to stay upright.

Erik let his face drop back into a glare. 

“I’ll get you, McCoy.”

“With those moves? Not likely!” Hank barely managed to get the sentence out before shaking with laughter again. Erik rolled his eyes and turned to Rogue, who was barely containing her giggles.

“My apologies, princess, I- Are you laughing at me too now?”

She snorted.

“Maybe.”

Erik sighed, returning to his post. “I have been betrayed by my king, I shall see myself out.”

Charles only laughed harder, and Rogue joined him and Hank this time.

The three of them occupied themselves with laughter until a tall black haired man arrived.

“Ah, Azazel, a pleasure to see you as always.” Charles cleared his throat, getting rid of the last few fits of giggles.

“Your Majesty, pleasure is mine. Erik pouting outside, cause for laughter?” Rogue jumped a bit at the deep voice and the Russian accent. 

“Much cause for laughter, much.” Hank nodded. “He was trying to teach Rogue here how to dance.”

Rogue waved up at the man.

“Hi.”

“Ah! You must be young princess!” He bowed deeply. “Honored to meet you, now, let us dance for real, eh?”

“Sure.” 

“Now first we learn Genoshan waltz, is not real waltz, is mix of Waltz and Tango.” He began to lead her through the steps.

“It’s a wango?”

“That means something different, so no,” he bellowed with laughter. She snorted as she caught onto his meaning. 

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Dancing with Azazel was much better than dancing with Erik, since one, he actually knew what he was doing, and two, he was a very patient instructor. When she stepped on his foot, he didn’t mind, and he showed her how to spin in and out.

She jumped up and down when she got it right the whole way through. “Grandpa, did you see that? I did the whole thing without hurting anyone!”

“That’s good news,” Charles smiled back. He’d been going through paperwork while she and Azazel danced. “Now why don’t you see if you can do it again?”

“Okay!”

Rogue happily spent the next hour or so dancing with Azazel. She even finished the last one with a little flourish.

Charles smiled.

“Better, much better, it’s really coming along. You can go home now if you’d like.”

“Cool, bye Azazel, thanks, Grandpa! See you tomorrow!”

Charles watched her run out of the room, switching her pumps out for the doc martens. Azazel bade him a quick goodbye and was left to his paperwork. And his thoughts...

* * *

_ “Daddy daddy did you see me?! Did you see me?” _

_ “Oh David that was amazing! You did so well” Charles hurriedly pushed himself forward, lifting his eight-year-old son into his lap. _

_ “You did wonderfully dear,” Gabrielle agreed. “A perfect princely dance.” _

_ “Do you like dancing, my darling boy?” Charles smiled down at his boy. David nodded eagerly.  _

_ “Uh-huh! Do you like dancing, daddy?” _

_ “I used to, before you were born. But daddy’s gotten old and stiff from sitting down all day,” he chortled, though he spun the chair with ease, delighting in David’s giggling. _

_ “I know! I’ll teach you the hand jive, it’s a hand dance!” _

_ “That sounds lovely darling, but for now, off to bed,” Gabrielle insisted. _

_ “I can take him, you head on upstairs,” Charles assured her. “Say good night, lovey.” _

_ “Okay, good night mummy.” _

_ “Good night my darling.” She kissed the top of his head and headed off to her own bedroom. David looked up at Charles as they wheeled towards the elevator.  _

_ “Daddy?” _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “How come mummy doesn’t kiss you? You’re the king and queen, and you got married, and then you had me,” David pondered aloud. Charles nodded and rolled into the open elevator. _

_ “Yes, that’s a rather accurate summation, my dear.” He put down the break on his chair and held David properly, gently stroking his hair. “Mum is my best friend. We do a lot together, including having you. But when we got married, it wasn’t like Cinderella, where we met and fell in love and lived happily ever after.” _

_ “Why not? Mummy’s very nice and you said she looked pretty,” David protested. _

_ Charles giggled at that. “Yes, she is, she’s very nice and very pretty, but when we got married, it wasn’t for us, it was for Genosha. Daddy had to make some difficult choices… But you don’t have to have that kind of marriage, my love. Your cousin, Logan, is first in line for the throne.” _

_ “Grumpy Logan?” David asked. Charles laughed at the distinction.  _

_ “Yes, Grumpy Logan. Because he’s first in line, he has to worry about who he’s going to marry, but since you’re second in line, you can marry anyone you want,” Charles explained. He carefully let go of David and wheeled them out of the stopped elevator, down the hall to David’s room. _

_ “Okay, daddy.” David smiled. Charles pulled into David’s big room and lifted him into bed. _

_ “Good night my love.” _

_ “Good night daddy.” _

* * *

“-arles, are you alright?”

Charles slowly dropped back into reality, and out of his memories. His hands were wet. 

He must have been crying. He looked up, seeing Erik sitting beside him, concern clear on his face.

“Oh, I, my apologies, Erik, just got to thinking.” He wiped at his eyes, trying for a smile. Erik saw right through it though, he always did. He placed a hand on Charles’.

“You know you’re allowed to grieve for them, right?” Charles bit his lip, shaking his head.

“Erik, you know I can’t, I, I have to remain proper and composed, I-”

“Not in front of me you don’t,” Erik interrupted. “There’s nobody here but you and me. You were there for me, after Nina, allow me to do the same for you, my King.”

“No, I can’t afford to do that, with Rogue and Jean and the ball and-”

“Charles.” Erik had moved to sit next to him. He stopped, chuckling wetly, putting his head in his hands.

“I must be losing my mind, I didn’t even see you move,” he murmured. Erik just slipped his arms around Charles, and the dam broke. He must have sat there for hours, just crying, mourning the loss of his son. By the time he poked his head up, it was dark outside. He sat back up and looked at Erik. “I’m so sorry.”

“If anyone asks, I saw nothing,” Erik assured him. Charles smiled sadly.

“Good night Erik.”

“Good night, my King.”


End file.
